


Right Under Our Stairs

by Spideryspade



Category: Casper (1995), Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)
Genre: ALSO YOU GET A LITTLE DOCSTRETCH, Baby's first crossover, Basically a rewrite of 1995 movie, I toned down the trio's treatment of casper and made them overprotective if anything??, M/M, also they're not from 1880s but rather from like. 1960s/1980s, as a treat., but with mice mutants instead of ghosts, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28157763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spideryspade/pseuds/Spideryspade
Summary: A young mutant finds himself uncovering the truth of his family's history  and how it's become what it is today, all while a certain someone lurks, waiting for a chance to get the treasure located under his houseAlternatively: some people combine their current main interests to cope - the fic
Relationships: Dr. James Harvey/Stretch McFadden
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

Casper's ear twitched as he heard the entrance door open from the kitchen. He set aside a glass of water he prepared for himself and cracked open the old door which kept him away from the noise. It wasn't uncommon to see people want to uncover the mystery of the haunted mansion on the bluffs - something he got from a flier one of the urban explorers left when they ran away in panic. 

He wasn't sure when the rumor started - most likely sometime around when he was a toddler - but it seemed to find roots in a supposed murder which took place here. A place once guesting a family powerful in Friendship now a place of tragedy and death.

To him the idea seemed silly. The house was anything but dead. Countless times his uncles would fill the mansion with various sounds and events - from Stinkie's "Guess That Smell" contests, to Fatso's music sessions where he would sing his lungs away, finally to Stretch's movie marathons. 

The last ones were probably his favorite activity. All four of them would get together and watch a movie from the 80's, Stinkie throwing snarky comments the main character's way while Fatso would bring in snacks. Then they would fall asleep on the couch and even if Casper would find himself alone in the morning, the blanket covering him was there to comfort him.

A flashlight shining his way made his train of thought stop in its tracks. "Is someone there?" A kid - couldn't be much older from Casper - spoke, fear clear in his quivering voice.

"It's not like a ghost is gonna show itself to you." Another kid pulled out some sort of homemade device, which started beeping excitedly like an alarm clock, and a camera.

The device started raging with rock music causing the invaders to frantically try to turn it off. "I thought you said it was a ghost detector!"

"That's what they told me at the mall!"

Opening the door further, Casper let his form turn invisible. He walked past the two kids, who managed to get the clock under control, and onto the stairs - just when his foot hit a squeaky plank. The light spun his way, blinding him and causing him to fall down. 

"Woah, is that-"

He rubbed his eyes, trying to get spots out of his vision. 

"A ghost?!" Screams could be heard even as the two had already escaped the metal gates of Whipstaff. 

Casper got to his feet and picked up the flashlight, turning it off before noticing something on the floor. He leaned down and noticed himself frozen in place, mouth agape as his arms a blurred mess. 

"Great." He exclaimed, picking up the photograph before walking back to the kitchen for his glass of water.

* * *

Friendship, Maine was a picturesque town, with deep history. That sort of town where everyone knew each other, or at least heard of one another. Which meant a lot of gossip spread around like wildfire. 

The Whipstaff Mansion was once a place on everyone's lips. The family residing there consisted of a single father, his toddler and his three older brothers. The youngest - J.T., affectionately called Brainiac by his brothers - was a true renaissance man, good with manual work as well as possessing a certain cleverness. A trait he held dearly and a practical must when it came to his pathobiology career. 

But his work demanded a lot from him - including various business trips and taking a part in scientific and even pseudoscientific conventions - leaving his son alone with his three uncles. 

Not much was known about the trio - older folks from around the town could tell you they were a good-for-nothin' bums, but just how far can you go just by listening to old folks? 

The eldest - Stretch they used to call him - was a snarky fellow. One you wouldn't want to cross paths with unless you wanted to get chewed up and spit out (Or worse, as few townie theorists say). Nobody knew how or where he got money to bring home bread for his family, but as long as he wasn't actively affecting the community the people couldn't care less.

McFadden's middle child - Stinkie - was a bit of a troubled case. A grave digger who stuck around far too many shifts, to the point where people would request not to see him at the cemetery. It could relate to a foul smell which seemed to follow him everywhere - a mix of wet dirt, rotten grass and a chemical pickle-like scent. But even as a child he was considered a rowdy boy. Setting up stink bombs in the school cafeteria, filling various lockers with contents of trash cans and even going as far as having his brothers (minus Brainiac) serve as a distraction while he planted a wet rag soaked in a skunk's odor he himself collected in the headmaster's desk after he got under his skin.

The last one got them to detention and led to the formation of The Trio.

The youngest of which was fittingly nicknamed Fatso - a talented singer and a chef. Most likely the easiest to hang around with, but not below scheming with his brothers. Opened a small bar in town, right before he went missing, called Bay Ale - especially popular amongst middle-aged dads. 

But before it could properly prosper, the trio alongside their nephew has simply vanished off the face of the earth, leaving J.T. grieving not only after his wife, who has died just a few years prior, but now after the rest of his family. The police had tried to tie him with their disappearance, but soon enough the man began to claim his family had turned into mice walking on the walls, which resulted in him getting institutionalized and ultimately dying due to poor care and malnourishment.

The house was then bought dirt cheap by a man who, on his deathbed, would leave the mansion to his only daughter. 

Carrigan was currently driving on an empty road alongside her associate Dibs, holding a styrofoam cup of coffee in one hand whilst the other gripped the steering wheel. An open scenery of a forest assisted them for some time now. “Quite a calming atmosphere here, isn't it? I’m sure I just saw a deer.”

“I still can’t believe I got less than goddamn bobcats.” She ignored him. “I know we weren’t close. But really, you give your flesh and blood a house with hell knows what treasure?" She gave him a quick glance, before taking a sip of her coffee. "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad it's not just a piece of rubble, but seriously."

"That's an understatement. I recall you calling him - and I quote - 'a stuck up asshole, who left you when you were 2 and came back when he needed someone to hold his hand to the shitter'."

"And I was-" She accidentally let go of the steering wheel, causing the car to steer right before she frantically grabbed it again. "And I was right! Hope that got through his thick skull."

"Certainly, among things like that fling down the stairs which cracked his skull open."

She smirked. "That was funny, wasn't it?"

Before they noticed they were standing before the manor, old statues and a broken fountain an unwelcoming sight. "What a dump…"

Carrigan lit up a cigarette and drew a long breath before stepping inside. "We could use it as a movie set, now that I'm looking at it."

"Maybe for a horror movie." Dibs responded, walking to the middle of the room. "Are you sure it's been only 12 years since anyone lived here?"

Carrigan opened her mouth to respond, but some-  _ voice  _ beat her to it. "I don't think my uncles would appreciate it."

"Who said that." She spun around, but saw no one. She could feel her heartbeat fasten, but she kept her ground. "You don't have any permission to be here!"

"I don't have a permission to be at my own house?"

"Yuh- I'm the owner of this house! Who are you? Some homeless kid?"

Dibs gently raised his hand like a student about to ask his teacher. "Carrigan, I don't think kids can be-"

"Quiet! Now, show yourself before I blow a fuse!"

"Promise not to scream?"

"I will scream if you don't!"

"Alright, alright." 

They heard two feet tap on the floor before they noticed an outline of- "A mouse?"

Two white ears stood excitedly as the-  _ the kid  _ smiled at them, his hands behind his back. He was wearing an oversized white hoodie underneath which Carrigan noticed a baby blue scarf. His blonde fur (can fur even be called blonde? Or maybe she should call it champagne?) contrasted with his dark shorts. She could see a long pink tail swaying left and right behind him.

"A fucking mouse?" was all she offered him, before Dibs screeched his lungs out.

"No! Please don't scream, you'll-" A low hissing voice could be heard from above them. "Ugh, too late…" 

The tiny mouse disappeared once again and the two remaining people looked up.

They saw three pairs of eyes, all looking down at them from the ceiling, glowing purple, green and gold. The hissing got louder as the figures crawled down the walls reminiscent of sludge dripping down and stood before the two, towering above them. They couldn't distinguish anything, besides things visible in their silhouette and heights.

The tallest one had a prominent tear in one of his narrow ears, over which towered a row of spikes growing out of his back. Sharp claws decorated his hands, seemingly ready to strike.

One in the middle was wearing something over his eyes, though Carrigan could still see the green glow emitting from both his eyes and his opened mouth (Later she would swear she saw smoke coming out of that maw).

The biggest one was straight up snarling at her, golden eyes following her every move and just like the first one - he rocked a nasty set of claws.

She put her mouth over her cigarette and blew smoke into their eyes. "Amazing acrobatics. Costumes even better. Really impressive, but-"

The three let out a shriek, causing their ears to ring. Carrigan grabbed her head, feeling a headache start to develop both from the noise and from the inconveniences. She felt a hand drag her away and soon enough she found herself outside.

"What the hell were those things?" Dibs asked, trying not to panic and failing.

"I don't know." She wanted, leaning against her car. "I don't know."

"It was like, a tornado siren right in your ear."

"More like a whistle in your earcanal." She sighed, crossing her arms, staring ahead of her. "I decided. I'm demolishing that dunghill."

"What about those ghosts?"

"Ghosts? You think a couple of mice are ghosts?"

"Maybe they can change shapes?"

"Ghost or no ghost, I'll find that treasure out of a pile of rubble." With that she opened the car door and entered inside.

* * *

"Buh-bye, lady!" The trio sung at the departing car before exploding with laughter. They turned around, moving towards the centre of the spiral pattern.

"You guys seen the look on their faces?" Stretch asked. "All talk and no game."

"I didn't even get ta' using my stink-a-later." Stinkie frowned, before he put his hands inside his pockets. 

"Eh, you were great either way." Fatso replied. "Those two were a nice differentiation from those kids who've been buggin' us."

"Speaking of kids, oh Casper!" Stretch yelled out and soon enough he noticed a mouse mutant sitting on the stairs. Casper leaned against the railing while his uncles walked up to him. "There you are! Say, why aren't ya' doin' your chores?"

"That lady came in, so I asked her what she was doing here." 

"Oh, is that so? We told ya' a million times, catfood," Stretch put his paw down on the stairs. "You see a human, you get outta here."

"You take a hike!" 

"You skedaddle." 

"Even if it was Queen what's-her-name of England at the door, ya' can't show yourself." 

They circled him, lamenting an advice he's heard countless times. "They couldn't even see me."

"But they could hear ya'. We would've handled it, kid." 

"But you just scare them-"

"Exactly! We scare 'em and they leave us be." Stinkie butted in. "It worked so far, why fix somethin' that ain't broken?"

"Yeah! We kept ya' safe for how long now? I'd be grateful if I were you." Stretch said glancing down at his nephew, causing the atmosphere to turn cold before he ascended the stairs.

"Maybe you'll understand when you're older, pipsqueak." Fatso added, ruffling Casper's hair before going up the stairs alongside his brothers.

Casper walked them off with his eyes before he put his knees up to his chest and hugged them. "I never said that I wasn't grateful. I just wish I had a friend…"


	2. Chapter 2

"Somethin' tells me that lady ain't gonna give up on us so easily." Fatso started in the midst of pulling the covers over himself, right after fluffing up his pillow. 

"Yeah, I think so too." The middle brother responded. "Think she was some sorta owner? Tough luck, with us here." 

"Ain't no tramp gonna walk in here and declare this place hers." Stretch said, plopping down on his bed. "We lived here longer than she's been alive, so she better keep her nose outta here."

"Didn't she say something about wanting to demolish it?" 

Stretch huffed, giving Fatso a look. "Demolish, Smetolish. She won't be able to move a pebble if we got somethin' to say." 

He declared, but he would be lying if he said he didn't feel a hint of anxiety rising within him. It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to do something about the 'haunted' Whipstaff Manor.

A few years back - somewhat after they took J.T. away - the town decided to rebrand it - instead of an old house on the outskirts of the town, they'd have an art gallery, with a picnic area in the front yard and a garden in the back. A kitschy plan was presented to the relevant services and they adored it.

But just when the works were beginning to take place, terrified employees began perpetually flooding the offices, begging to stop the construction. Upon asking why the workers claimed to have seen the ghosts of the family which resided in the manor. 

One of the workers was courageous (foolish) enough to walk deep into the bowels of the house. He was gone for a good minute before he came out, sticky with a transparent substance of musty yet sweet smell, work clothes ripped to shreds and small cuts with bits of glass stuck inside.

At first the town dismissed their complaints, but then came the WHS services and too many protests for the mayor to be comfortable with - so they were forced to leave Whipstaff be.

"Stretch?" Stinkie started, sitting criss crossed on his bed. "Ya' kinda spacin' out."

"What I'm sayin' is we'll be fine. Have been and will be."

Unbeknownst to them, right outside their window a tiny mutant climbed down the drain-pipe, holding a flier in his mouth. 

Cold ocean breeze hit his fur as he ran on all fours across his yard and shimmied his way through the gates. Heart beating right out of his chest, Casper smiled - he's been outside for the first time in seemingly forever. At least, the forever he remembered.

The sandy path accompanied his mind as it wandered. His paws touched the ground, dirt and sand and rocks offering him foundation. Wind whooshed against his ears, causing them to flop along. His uncles would be livid if they found out he sneaked out, but he had to at least _try._

All because of one announcement about the next news report - a man who believes he can help ghosts cross over. All of Casper's focus went into that man's daughter, however - from what they said she traveled a lot with her dad, so she must've been as lonely as he was. And since people already thought they were _dead_ , Casper could try his luck to bring Kat and her dad here.

A shot in the dark.

The forest quickly gave way to a highway, sign nearby indicating he was just ten miles away from the adjacent hotel - somewhere he presumed the new owner went.

* * *

  
  


The coffee had turned cold by the time she got the last phone call. Another worker told her they quit due to 'demons residing in that curse you call a manor', and she was slowly getting desperate. Her bank account was slowly running out of funds and she was nowhere near that damn treasure.

A headache was a constant presence nowadays. 

The desk she sat by was littered by various scraps of information, countless phone numbers and even more wasted time. 

Carrigan could feel her jaw muscles spasm alongside a certain sting in her eyes. 

When she was driving to her dying old man, she hoped for something straightforward - money being the most preferable way of saying "Sorry for being an absentee father, I found a hot veterinarian from Mississippi to bother! Awooga!". Flowers would be a nice touch too, but money would fix the gaping hole in her heart. 

Even as the prick gave his last breath, he didn't say a word about her leaving her ma. His last words? "I don't think I'm going to get better."

Carrigan turned on the TV, hoping to let her mind rest for even a few minutes. Some gangster movie - a western - cement commercial - all blurred into one while she surfed through them, their voices sounding more like a broken radio than a legitimate station. 

"Better give something about vermin exterminators." She said, leaning her chin against her hand. "Or maybe a giant mouse trap." 

She set the remote down letting a news station play in the background as she started to gather up unnecessary papers (read: all of them). She was reaching for the phone book when she felt something _mushy_ against her other hand. "I know it's not a 5-star hotel, but they should've…" A flier was stuck to her hand. "Cleaned better…"

She looked around only to see a window cracked open. "What in the…"

She read the text on the paper while the news reporter kept on talking. "...after the death of his wife, he's been travelling across the US alongside his daughter, Kat - short for Kathleen - helping ghosts," Carrigan jerked her eyes up. "Cross over. If you, or your loved one, has been suffering the symptoms of death, but cannot move on, we will display the number just about… now."

"...I could always kill them and use that guy." She wrote down the number on the back of the flier. "Unless Dibs is right and they are dead."

She tapped her pen on the desk. "Ah, what the hell." Carrigan dialed the number and waited for the doctor to pick up.

* * *

Kat strolled down the halls of her school, actually _glad to be here_ for the first time since she got here. Her audition was - maybe not great - but it got her into Cactus Crooners, so she had something to be excited for, if not a little anxious. 

A school choir is always a big deal for the participant, so her feeling just a bit sick was justified. Probably.

She walked past - Jesse? Alex? No, it started with an J - a kid putting up decorations for Halloween, who recognized her immediately and waved at her. "I saw you singing'. Thought it was great!"

"Oh, thank you." She smiled as they handed her something. "What is that?"

"An invitation." They said, putting hands into their pockets, face smeared with glitter from the props behind them. "My folks are going to be gone for the weekend, so I'll be alone with my brother and well, I thought you'd like to come?"

"Oh," Kat felt really bad for not remembering their name. "I'd love to." 

"Great, see you there." They replied before turning around to their work, something Kat walked into right as she was about to make her exit. The kid laughed as she tried to keep her cool, doing finger guns at them. 

Marching away slightly too fast for a cool exit, she noticed someone familiar in one of the classrooms. "Right, I understand. I'm just surprised, is all. You have only been here for two weeks. Kat was just starting to get assimilated into the school life."

"I know, but I have- They need me in Maine, and I can't just leave Kat here." Kat's dad laughed softly- something that was meant to be a light mood changer came out dry and out of place.

"She doesn't have any family here, right? Somewhere she could stay while you did your job?"

"Ma'am, I understand your concern, I really do, but she traveled with me for some time now. I couldn't just leave her, even if there had been any family here."

"Right," the teacher sighed, gathering up her documents. "I didn't mean to be rude like that."

"You weren't. Trust me, I heard a lot worse in my line of work." He reached his hand towards her and she shook it. "Thank you again."

"You're welcome. Hope you'll find what you're looking for."

"Me too." James opened the door, causing Kat to move to the side. 

"Oh- Hi, Bucket," He smiled lightly. "Uh, I got a call and they need me in Maine. Ready to ghostbust some butts?"

He chuckled at his own joke and Kat felt her cheeks burn with rising rage. "Dad, finally something good happens to me and you tell me we're leaving?"

Slightly taken aback, James straightened putting a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m sure you’ll do great in Friendship, too.”

“I can’t believe it.” She said before both of them walked towards the exit. “I got into a choir, Dad. I was going to be one of the Cactus Crooners!”

“That’s great- I mean, not great that we have to leave, but I’m very proud of you for trying out something new. Even if you're on the right track, you will get run over if you just sit there."

“Did- did you get that inspirational quote from the back of the cereal box?”

He scoffed. “Of course not.” James opened the door for her and she stepped out. "It was from the insurance commercial."

* * *

Casper watched from the trio's room as two cars parked in their front yard, one of them running over Stinkie's coleuses, smashing them into a technicolor mush. Casper was so glad his uncles went out to get something on the town - otherwise his whole plan would be a bust from the start.

He noticed that girl - Kat - walking out of the car and he pressed his face against the window. He tried his best to read their lips to get some idea on what they were talking about, but they were too far away for him to get anything. Quickly enough, that lady from before gave Kat's dad a bouquet and they walked towards the front door of his house.

"Alright, I have to act natural. How do I…" 

He licked his hand, parting his hair in the middle before he smiled at nothing. "Hi, I'm Casper. The coolest mouse in this part of town." He sighed. "No, that's not it." 

"What about a little…?" He turned around and put his blue scarf on his snout. "Stop right there, pardner." He finger gunned the bed behind him before sitting down on Fatso's bed. "That's stupid."

He hummed in thought. "How about I just try being myself?" The room responded with silence. "You're right, it wouldn't work… I'll just wing it." 

* * *

  
  


"Well, we're here." James began, examining the giant room, frankly amazed by the atmosphere this place held. Sure, it was a little untidy, but it wasn't anything they couldn't fix. "How do you like it?"

"Are you sure we won't die of asbestosis?" 

"I know this place is old, but I don't think-"

"I'm just kidding, Dad." Kat smiled before pulling her luggage up the stairs. "It’s got a… character. I'm gonna try to find a bedroom, if I don't come back send the search party."

The stairs creaked as she ascended them, suits of armor and old grandfather clocks offering her company. Cobweb covered walls presented to her at the top, a soft gust of wind pushing past her - almost like a small touch. She took it as an invitation to press further, as she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Opening the door on the far east she entered a room with three beds, a name engraved over each one of them. Kat cringed, both from the smell and the ambiance. And the names themselves. “Stretch, Fatso and Stinkie… their parents must’ve loved them.” 

Another gust of wind closed the door right into her face, causing her heartbeat to quicken. “Alright… That was," She paused walking a few steps back. "strange… How about the next one?” 

A similar smell - though a lot less apparent - hit her as she opened the door - her eyes were presented with another bedroom. With a double bed this time, and a window that overlooked the ocean. "How do you like it, Bucket?" 

Kat turned around to see her dad struggling with a few boxes, one of which signed with her name.

"I think I'll take that one. I just need an entire trunk of air freshener." She took the box from her father's hands, who in response sighed with relief. 

"We can go to the shop tomorrow if you'd like."

"Let's survive the night first, then we can talk."

He hummed in agreement and was just about to leave before he reached into the box. "Wait. I have something," He pulled out a photo of her mom and put it on her bedside table. "Or rather someone. Now the whole family's here."

Kat smiled softly, but her eyes started to sting when she looked at Amelia - alive. "Do you think you can find her?"

"I can, and will. Every ghost has unfinished business, so did she." His voice was ever so slightly softening. "I'll go put everything out. Scream if you need me."

"Right. Will do." Kat watched her dad exit the room, leaving her feeling uneasy, in a sense. They talked about how this place would be the last job, and if James didn't find what he was looking for - that would be it. No more ghost therapy, no more missed school, no more trekking from one state to the other.

She would be lying if she said she hadn't grown to like their trips. They saw a lot during their time on the road, something she wouldn't be able to do if she just stuck around in one place. 

Sighing, she decided to get her mind off of things, by finally unpacking.

Unbeknownst to her, a pair of baby blue eyes was watching her, from the ceiling. Casper climbed up the moment she walked in and he had no idea how to get down without alarming her, as she walked right below him. Additionally, she kind of stole his bedroom. He'd have to talk about it with her once he introduced himself.

"There's a girl. In my room…" Casper whispered to himself, praying his heart wasn't loud enough to alarm her. "Where am I supposed to sleep?"

He must've said it just a _tad_ too loudly because she turned around and-

Fell to the ground. Casper jumped down, knocking over a lamp on his way, his stomach already doing flips. "Please don't tell me you're dead…?" He got closer to her and thankfully she was still breathing. Feeling like he himself was allowed to breathe again, Casper ran into the bathroom and poured as much water as he could into his hands.

He splashed her face with it, immediately getting a response of dry coughs from her. "Did you just waterboard me? Because that's not-" She opened her eyes, which immediately widened to the size of saucers. "What. _The hell?_ "

"Hi, I'm Casper." He smiled and offered her a hand, but all he got in response was a shriek so loud even Fatso would be taken aback.

He turned invisible as soon as James ran into the room, holding onto the doorframe. "Kat. Kat, are you alright?" 

Kat ran up to him, holding onto him as an anchor. "Dad, I saw- I saw something. I don't know what it was or- or what it was doing here, but it stared at me from the ceiling and-"

James' expression immediately changed to something more serious. "Now, honey. Was it a person or something else?"

"It was a mouse, but not like a normal mouse- it was a giant… thing."

"Would you like me to check your room?" She nodded. "Alright, let's see under the bed." Her sheets flew up as he checked. "Nothing out of the ordinary here." 

He walked towards the closet, grabbing the handle. "And it's safe to assume it's going to be the same situation over here." Downstairs a knock on the door resonated, catching Casper's attention just as the closet door opened, revealing the mouse mutant flickering in and out of existence.

"Uh, Dad?"

"...cheesed to meet you?"

James looked down and just like that Casper was alone in the room as the two humans sprang out of the room with terrified screams.

"Couldn't think of anything better, huh?" Casper buried his face in his hands, before his ears picked up another knock on the door. His blood froze, his tail going stiff in a second. "They're back."

  
  


"Dad, please! It's not like I can't walk!" Kat exclaimed from her father's shoulder, who had been quite frankly lost in the maze of hallways. 

"We are getting out of here! I don't want either of us getting rabies!"

"I don't think mice can carry rabies?" He ran down the stairs, not responding to Kat's comment as he was soon out of breath. The entrance room felt _off_ for some reason, but she couldn't dwell into it too much as James _finally_ put her down and unlocked the front door.

"How long was you gonna make us wait? Huh, Casper?" Another three - _bigger than the previous one -_ mice were standing in the doorway, holding crumpled paper bags. James put Kat behind him, his shaky hand holding onto her.

"You want us to catch a death out there?" The shortest one asked as the last one - a plumpier individual - closed the door behind them.

"We got you some bagels-" They walked next to them before simultaneously they froze and turned towards Harveys on their heels. "Hey, you're not Casper!" 

"The hell are you doing in our house?" The tallest one asked, simply dropping the bags to the floor. 

"And how'd you get in?" He mimicked his associate, just like the chubby one.

"And where have you gotten that cardigan? It compliments your eyes." The other two looked at him with raised brows. 

"Boys," Their leader started, simply ignoring the other, a few spikes rising on his arms. "Get' em."

Casper climbed down the stairs as fast as he could upon seeing both families meet, but he was nearly knocked over as the humans ran past him, his uncles hot on their tail. He turned around and sighed. "Up again."

Kat was thrown into a closet before she could protest. "Promise me not to get out of here, alright?" James wheezed out, constantly looking over his shoulder.

"I promise, but Dad-" He turned around, fear still clear on his face. "I'm sorry for not believing you."

"Honey…" He gave her cheek a quick stroke, before closing the door. "We'll talk about this later!" 

James back pressed against the door, as he looked left and right, left and right looking for any sign of life (or death). "I- I'm not afraid of you!" His voice quivered as he reached towards the nearby wall - supporting his weight as his head began spinning. "In fact, I'd like to help you. Get to the other side!"

"What do I look like, the chicken?" A voice from behind him asked, causing him to scream out - his vocal cords would hate him tomorrow - and run in the opposite direction and right into something hard, hard enough for him to black out.

* * *

  
  


"Now, who the hell was that? He just knocked himself out on that wall." Stretch asked, softly kicking James to see if the latter would react, with a moderate response of pained breathing. 

Without a word Fatso crouched down, putting his hands inside James's pockets, scavenging inside.

"Fatso, you animal! At least ask the guy on a date." Stinkie chuckled, leaning over Harvey's unconscious body, examining his features. "I think I saw him on TV."

"That ain't much. Hell, I've been on TV." Stretch responded. "Fatso, you find anything?"

"Got a library card for the kid, a dippin' dots gift card and a driver license. Guy had a taste."

"Has, he's not dead." Stretch took the driving license from Fatso, before slapping his head in a moment of enlightenment upon seeing James's name. "The guy's a swindler."

"A what now?" Stinkie and Fatso joined Stretch's sides, looking at the driver's license. 

"You could remember the guy from TV, cause he was in today's news. He claims to be a shrink for the dead, so I think I got a pretty good idea what's he doin' here."

"You mean?" 

"He's here to talk to us."

"But we ain't dead." Stinkie exclaimed, putting his hand on Stretch's shoulder who immediately swept him off. "Guess the new owner read the pamphlet."

"So what do we do about them?" 

"We get rid of them, that's what!" Stretch cackled. "Just gotta figure out how."

"A little acid never hurt anyone." Stinkie suggested, ready to give the doctor a little toxic wet willie before Stretch knocked his hat off with a slap.

"Wh- No, we're not going to put 'em in acid! You want the carpet to stain?"

"What about burying them alive in our garden?" Fatso asked, his tail flicking from one side to the other.

Stinkie gasped, fixing his hat to its previous position. "And my witch hazel to rot?"

Fatso grumbled. "Cooking 'em in a pot?"

"Nah, we ain't low enough for cannibalism. Sides, they'd go bad in a week." Stretch finally threw in.

"Ya’ think it would even be cannibalism? I mean, we're not really the same-"

"Please don't eat me?" All eyes jerked towards the man on the floor, who had been listening in on their conversation for a while now. His voice was hoarse, but just loud enough for the trio to hear him. "Thank you."

Stretch put his foot on James' chest, leaning against it. "Well, well, well! If it ain't Doctor Kremer-"

"Actually," Stinkie started. "It was Harvey, not Kremer."

"What? You sure?" Stinkie nodded, getting a sigh out of his brother, who straightened out. 

"Wasn't Kremer that muppet from pipsqueak's show?" Fatso asked, raising a brow.

"No, it was Kermit. And he hasn't watched those cartoons since he was 9."

"I thought he was 7?"

" _Fellas_." A couple of spikes rose from Stretch's back, causing both of his younger brothers to back off as he rubbed the bridge of his snout. "We are missing the point here."

"No, I think I see a few." Fatso laughed, poking one of the tips on his brother's back before Stretch snarled at him. 

"I think you should watch your mouth." He turned towards Harvey and- "Hey, where did he go now?!"

The seemingly never ending halls echoed with the sound of footsteps - running - as a figure swiftly breezed past Kat’s hiding spot, right before knocking into something, causing a clunking noise to reverb throughout the area. “Dad?” 

She pulled on the door, but suddenly something _sharp_ pierced it. She jerked her hand back and despite the dark, the stinging sensation indicated of a gash now formed on her forearm.

"Come back here, ya' smooth skin! We jus' wanna talk!"

"Then why am I using Stinkie as a bat?"

She heard a cacophony of laughs before everything was once again quiet.

The mutants were nowhere to be seen as he descended down the stairs, right before tripping on _something._ "Watch the tail!" A squeaky voice yelled out as James fell down, sliding to the bottom of the stairs. 

He grumbled before collecting himself. He turned around to see the mutants, each with a sable in their hand. "Manger du acier, connard de merde!" The tallest one yelled out before cutting James's belt, letting his pants fall to the ground. He let out a whistle at the sight before laughing alongside his brothers.

"And now you can see Doctor James Harvey gracefully march down the runway, but what's that! He tripped! Let's see what the judges have to say!" Fatso said before putting his sable up. "It's a 0 from me."

"I hate to agree, but- oh, who am I kidding." Stretch lifted his sable up. 

"He's a stinker!" With that three sables flew James's way just in time for him to close the bathroom door, piercing it.

"Hey, I didn't know you knew French," Stinkie said, looking up at his brother. 

"It was useful for one job." Stretch responded, now noticing a hand Fatso raised up to him. He quickly high-fived him right before leaning on him.

"Which one, was it th-" Fatso started right as the bathroom door opened, with James - now fully clothed, his belt tied into a small bow around his waist - with a plunger in his hand. The trio chuckled at the sight before James dropped the utensil.

He grabbed one of the sables left behind by the rodents, having to wrestle a bit with the door before getting it out, pointing it at the tallest mutant. "Ready for our first session?"

Stretch smirked at him, using his tail to pull out another sword from the door. "What's that, it seems we will have a little play-off on our hands!" 

Stinkie pulled off his hat, placing bets in it alongside Fatso. "Think ya' can handle us, doc?" Stretch asked, using his sable as an extension of his finger as he gestured for James to come _closer._

"I have worked as a school counselor before." James struck, pushing Stretch up the stairs as their blades met. "You three will be a walk in the park."

Stretch angled his sable so James's steel slid off of his own. He jerked his blade forward, but James jumped to the other side. "Ain't ya' being a bit too sure of yourself, Doc?"

"I'm confident in my abilities." The steps creaked as they marched up. "You're closed off from the world, but we can fix that. I can help you."

Stretch hollered with laughter. "Let me guess, you want us to cross over?" They stepped closer to each other, sables grinding against each other. 

"Among other things. I can help you get," James started, staring into Stretch's eyes, trying to find the right word. "Better. You just have to want it." 

"And if I don't want to?" Stretch's wrist bent the wrong way as James pressed on, causing him to drop the sword and fall down. Sprawled on the stairs, he huffed, still smiling.

"I can't force you into anything." The sable's tip was nearly touching Stretch's snout, as James looked down at him with a sympathetic look. "Take it as a suggestion."

"Hey, pick someone your own size!" Stinkie exclaimed, putting James in a headlock from behind. His mouth glowed green as he started spewing out toxins- right when he felt a jab in his ribs, releasing the gas in a belch right next to James's face.

James used the handle to free himself, causing Stinkie to stumble backwards and onto unsuspecting Fatso. 

* * *

  
  


"Dad?" Kat yelled out from inside the closet, banging her fists against the old wood. She heard _noises_ from outside of the room, including her father’s screams which only escalated the sick feeling in her stomach. “Dad!”

She heard a click from outside before she tumbled out, onto something soft and furry. Widening her eyes, she crawled off of the- _the mouse_ before it dissolved into thin air. “You- you’re the ghost?”

Before he could respond she saw James run past her, a sable keeping three humanoid rodents in a headlock. He threw them inside the same closet Kat had just gotten out of and locked the door. “Honey,” He started, gasping in exhaustion. “Are you ok? Did- Did they hurt you?”

“They didn’t even get near me, but Dad-”

“Oh. That’s good.” He gave her a weak smile, before continuing. “Say, how about we, uh, sleep in the car, tonight?”

“But Dad, I saw that-”

“I _know_. C’mon” 

With that they departed down the stairs and out of the building, leaving Casper looking over the railing with a lump in his throat, still invisible but flickering slightly. So maybe it wasn’t the _best_ first impression for him. But he could fix that. 

If they came back. There was always the possibility they would just leave. Like that. Leaving the mansion to the mice mutants once again. Maybe Uncle Stretch would ban going outside at all now. It’s not like he had a lot to do inside the gates anyway, so why not just lock him up.

“Hey, cheese for brains, let us outta here!”

Casper felt anger rise within him as his eyes started to sting, the mere thought of having to deal with his cranky uncles after… whatever that was - it made him wish he could just go with the two humans. 

"Casper!" Stretch's high-pitched voice rang out, causing the boy to cringe. 

He sighed, rubbing his face before walking towards the door. "Coming."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE NO IDEA HOW I WROTE ALMOST 5K WORDS, but I did and I'm very proud of myself <3
> 
> This chapter was SO fun to write, even if I did have to change quite a few things :-)c Super excited to hear what you guys think abt that one <3
> 
> 1\. Stretch's french meant "Eat steel, asshole" and if you didn't guess already, I don't know much french <3 BUT the Job is hint, towards a certain Something™👀
> 
> 2\. Kremer comes from the last name of Warren Kremer, a cartoonist for Harvey comics who created Richie Rich and Hot Stuff
> 
> Thank you for reading, I appreciate it :-)


	3. Chapter 3

Carrigan parked her car on the side of the yard, observing the house. It looked relatively the same, but the Harveys were there just one night. Rome wasn't built in a day, after all. Still, however, she had high hopes for the extermination process. 

She looked to the side and noticed something move in the only other car in her yard. She pulled out a cig and put it in her mouth. "Dibs, hand me a lighter, will you?"

A light breeze hit her as she stepped out of the car, a sharp crackle hitting her ears as she lit her cigarette. She watched her associate shiver and was glad for the fake mink coat she brought. Stepping closer to the car, her assumptions were confirmed so after blowing a cloud of smoke up in the air, she stuck her hand through the open front window and honked. 

"Jesus, Carrigan! At least warn a man before you'll do something like that! I think my eardrum just burst…" 

Doctor Harvey jumped up immediately, hitting his head on the roof. His daughter - Cas, was it? - had a much calmer response - a knee jerk that got her to the back corner of the car. "Are they gone yet?"

James smiled at her with an expression she knew all too well from back when she tried out the business line of work. People would use it to get out of situations they deemed too stressful for them - long story short, they fucked up. At least she got her answer, which did not satisfy her in the slightest. "We have made contact with the- the  _ ghosts _ . I think… we're on the right track to getting them out.”

“You better be right,” She said through her teeth, pulling out a check from her pocket. She held it in front of James, almost like a bait. “Else you can kiss it goodbye.” Exactly like a bait.

“Right.” He climbed out of the car, before pushing the front seat down, helping the kid out. 

“I’d like to remind you we’d like you to be  _ brief _ about the whole expulsion.”

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be done before you know it.” He proclaimed, putting his hands together before his daughter pulled on his sweater, getting his attention.

“Dad, c’mon.” She said, dragging her dad towards the uninviting mansion. “We got breakfast to make.”

Carrigan watched as they entered the building with narrow eyes, her partner right by her side. “Do you think he’ll get them out?” He asked, getting a side glance from her. She shifted on her feet, dropping her cig and stomping it. 

“Either he will or this town will have another missing person.” Dibs eyes widened. “Let’s go. I heard there’s a good restaurant in the area and you’re buying.”

* * *

"Honey, are you sure it's a good idea? Maybe we shouldn't be so..." James said, his sleeve stretched beyond repair as his daughter dragged him across the mansion, looking for a kitchen. "... intrusive?"

"Look, Dad. I'm tired, hungry and my back aged twelve years in the back of your car," Kat started, each word more emphasized than the last. "I don't care if we're 'intrusive' or whatever, I want to eat something -something that’s not a takeout for once - before I get bullied at school for being the girl who lives in a tourist trap."

"Kat, I'm sure it won't be so bad-" 

"It  _ has  _ been that bad. In Nevada, there was that girl who was chasing me around, trying to pour water on me as she yelled about 'having to cleanse me of sins'," She walked into the room on the left, a dark hallway greeting her with silence. She brushed her hand against a nearby wall, flipping a switch on, causing the room to lit up. "In Wyoming, during recess, someone flipped my backpack inside out and shoved rocks and a Ouija board in it and in California when they almost pulled a Carrie on me when I walked into the class."

She walked towards the double door at the end of the hallway and before James could offer her anything else but a pained look, she pushed the door open.

The kitchen was filled with the aroma of cooking - pancakes on the stove, alongside bacon filled their nostrils as they entered. The table was decorated with a bouquet of orange lilies, ornamented by petunias. Although there was nobody around, Kat was sure she heard footsteps right next to her. The blinds were already pulled up and the warm sunlight invited them inside.

“Think we’re interrupting something?” James asked, looking around before hesitantly sitting down at the table, Kat stopping close to him.

“I-”

“You’re not!” The tiny mouse from yesterday winked into existence, startling both humans. He wrapped his tail around Kat’s face while his hands landed on James’s mouth, preventing both of them from making a sound. “Don’t scream, please! My uncles are still sleeping and you wouldn’t want to see them cranky. Trust me.” 

He gave the two some space, instead walking towards the stove. Kat rubbed her face as the hairy tail pulled away. “What are you…?”

“A mutant.” He said casually, flipping the pancakes. “Do you want any syrup with those?” 

Both of them nodded and Casper reached for plates from one of the shelves next to him. He used his tail to hold the spatula as he let the pancakes sizzle one last time. “And your uncles?”

“Them too. They should know more about... This whole situation.” He served them their meals - pancakes with maple syrup, scrambled egg and bacon. “Pulp or no pulp? For your juice.”

“No pulp for me.” Kat said, sitting down next to her dad.

“Uh- yeah, same for me. Please.” James exclaimed, taking a deep breath before continuing. “So, um…”

“Casper.”

“Casper, sorry. Why are you awake so early? It’s only,” He looked down at his watch, raising brows. “6:30.” James snickered to himself. “Well, someone certainly was antsy.”

Casper’s tail stopped wagging for a split second, before he turned towards them with two glasses in hands. “I had chores to do.” He placed them down, his feet touching the floor with a soft thwap. “I had to clean the vents, water the indoor plants and prepare breakfast.”

“The vents?” Kat asked, but before Casper could answer the side door swung open with a thud, crashing into a nearest cabinet, causing it to wobble. Into the kitchen entered three mice who, upon noticing the Harveys, gave the two a stink eye.

They were wearing matching sets of pyjamas in colors of yellow, blue and red.

They looked ridiculous.

The trio sat down, not letting the Harveys out of their sight. "Casper," Stretch started, his nephew at his side. "Tell me, what were you doing with them pinkies?"

"They're our guests so I thought-"

"Well, you  _ shouldn't have. _ " 

"Ya' don't know where they've been." Stinkie added as Casper walked towards one of the cabinets to retrieve the trio's meal. "What if they got lice?" He scratched his ear.

"Hey, don't talk about us like we're not here!" Kat finally said, getting the mutants' attention. 

"It ain't your home, missy, so sit down and can it." Stretch responded just as Casper put down his plate. 

"Honey, that's enough-"

"Well, maybe not, but tell me why the heck do you use a kid to do your dirty work while you laze off?" Casper shifted on his feet, his ear twitching.

"Bucket-"

"Oh, now a preteen is going to preach us on how to raise a kid! What else have ya’ got, smooth skin."

"Stop calling us that, catfood"

"Kat, I said that's enough. You have a school… thing" James said, pushing her aside and towards the door. He handed her a ten dollar bill he found in his pocket. "Here, buy yourself breakfast. I love you."

He kissed her forehead, but not without a mocking little 'aww' from the trio. "Drop dead!" Kat yelled out before Harvey gently pushed her out of the room.

He stood there for a second, hands on the door, before he turned towards the mutants with newfound enthusiasm. "Sorry, you know how kids are." No response, save for Casper disappearing. "Right. So, anyway, I'd like to see you at my office once you finish breakfast. I uh… see some _ issues _ with you we could really work on and-"

With that he got covered in bits of chewed up food.

* * *

  
  


The streets of Friendship looked different in a new day’s lighting. Almost welcoming in a way, letting everyone know you could go out and explore the town’s corners. It gave off a warm feeling, almost inappropriate for cold October weather. 

Kat’s made a sharp turn as she walked alongside the town’s streets, a few kids passing right past her on their bikes, almost knocking her over. She tripped, regaining her balance just in time to watch one of the kids give her a side glance. Kat huffed, but decided to think nothing of it. She still had to reach school and one little  _ push  _ wouldn't ruin her first day there.

When the old building came into her view, she felt her heartbeat quicken with anticipation. Sure, she's been in a few different schools this year alone, but if her dad would keep his promise (he pinky promised. He had to), she wouldn't change this one. She could actually socialize without a hint of worry and guilt over leaving there to mock her. She would do great.

She hoped.

Kat walked up to her locker - she could customize it later on, maybe with a few stickers she had left from Oregon, ones with bigfoot in them. Maybe she could make a little frame out of them- she pulled on the door, but it didn't budge. "Oh, c'mon." She said through her teeth, trying again to pull it open. And again. And nothing.

"You need to push in, then out." A nearby kid exclaimed, pushing onto the locker door, changing the combination with a click then pulling. "Voilà. Had that locker last year. Maybe you should ask for a new one, since this one is… like that."

The kid couldn't have been much older than Kat, maybe even her age. "No, I like my lockers like I like my bottle caps," she started, putting her books into the locker, the thought of decorating it long gone. "Clicking."

He smiled at her, before offering her his hand. "My name's Vic. Tell me if you'll need anything."

"Oh," She exclaimed, shaking his hand. "I'm Kat and I will, thank you." With that the two of them departed, Vic went to a group of friends - one of which that girl who nearly ran her over, still giving her a nasty look - and Kat went on a quest to find her class.

* * *

The docks were filled with ruckus and gossip, all sorts of people walking right past Carrigan and her close personal friend - as he called himself. She rolled her eyes as another guy whistled her way, annoyance worming its way into her head. 

"Carrigan, is it far away?" Dibs asked, his sleeve crinkled due to Carrigan's pulling. 

"The ad said it was just by the docks." She said, turning her head. "Found it."

"It seems," Once inside they were welcomed by walls of dark wood, slightly painted green with a repellent which might've been charming to some, but to Carrigan it just looked rotten. The floor looked similar, creaky and full of knots. Above, the dark ceiling was covered in fishing nets, some of them loosely hanging off, some tied to a nearby supporting pole. "Nice."

"I hope at least the food will be nice." Carrigan commented, before walking to the muscular bartender, who eyed them as he scrubbed off any remaining dust off of hefty pitchers. "Excuse me, is there any sort of… hostess around."

"There is. You're lookin' at 'im." He said, putting the glass aside and leaning against the bar. "What'dya need?"

"Oh. Well, me and my assistant would like to be seated…?"

"Pick any table that's free and I'm gonna be right over." He said, returning to his work, not without a second glance at the two. 

"Right." Carrigan said with a huff before dragging Dibs towards the patio. "Let's go."

Outside she swiftly found a free table, right next to the railing. They sat down and opened their menus, Carrigan pulled her sunglasses down, staring at the text before her for a minute, unable to concentrate on it as her thoughts raced. "To be quite honest, I'm not sure why don't you just move here. It's quite relaxing, soft waves hitting rocks below us, birds chirping. I'm sure a few seniors would be jealous." Dibs chuckled, leaning his head on his palm, menu already set aside.

"I don't have enough to move here." She said simply, putting her card down. "I still have a house in Vermont. Besides, I don't want anything to do with those vermin."

“Huh.” Dibs simply replied, before his gaze jerked to Carrigan. "How much have you got left?" He asked with a raised brow.

"Enough for now, but once I get all due bills for that dump of a place?" She did a swift cutting gesture at her neck. 

"Right. And, how do you plan on paying that therapist?"

She laughed in response and before Dibs could ask further the barkeeper came in, notepad in hand. "So, what can I get for starters? Any drinks - water, ice tea, wine perhaps?"

"Water will be fine for now." Carrigan responded with a strained smile. 

"Actually," Dibs started, straightening in his seat. "Could I get a fruit salad? Just a little treat to start the day off." 

The bartender offered him a smile and quickly scribbled his order down. "I get what you mean. Anything to drink?"

"Oh, just some tea would be marvelous."

"Alright, I'll be with you in a minute with you."

"Thank you so much." Dibs responded before the bartender marched off inside. 

"Dibs," Carrigan started, suppressing an urge to laugh out loud again. "I think he’s got his eyes on you."

"What on Earth are you talking about? No, he was just friendly." He flicked his wrist before putting both of his arms on the table. "So, what do you plan to do if that psychiatrist fails to do his job?"

"I'm hoping it won't come to that. I would hate to get blood on my carpet."

"Carrigan, that man has a child."

"I meant the rats, idiot."

"Oh. Yeah, I- I knew that." 

The conversation ended there, as they both stared off into the waves, the morning rays of sunshine hitting the water, refracting it. Carrigan opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. Dibs turned his head towards her, but she didn't think he noticed it.

"Here you go. So, decided on what'd you like to order yet?"

Carrigan jerked her head towards the bartender. "Just- just give me a catch of the day." 

"An omelette would be perfect for me, thank you."

"Right-o. And just to be sure, you want two checks?"

Carrigan nodded and he thanked them once again. "Carrigan, pardon my curiosity but, you  _ are  _ going to pay me, right? After you get the treasure?"

"Sure I will." She lied, before quickly changing the subject. "We'll go there tomorrow. Either we get the money or that doctor gets the boot." 

Dibs nodded. 

(Later, when they've finished their meals and received their checks, Carrigan noticed something written down Dibs's receipt, something that caused his eyes to widen before he folded it up and put it in his pocket. She narrowed her eyes. The guy was definitely into him.

"If you want me to pay, why'd you ask for two checks?"

"I didn't want him to think we were dating.") 

* * *

Setting his mug down, James glanced towards his three patients residing on the couch who have been staring daggers at him ever since he entered the room. Even before he started helping ghosts get to the other plane via therapy, he had patients who looked at him with less than enthusiasm, as if he was trying to do anything besides helping them.

He was used to it.

The trio had already destroyed some of his personal belongings - just as he was getting his coffee - with an airgun he prohibited the moment he saw it. They nearly put a hole through Amelia's photo, but he was lucky enough to snatch it before they could.

"Ya' know we ain't dead, right Doc?" Stretch started, leaning against the headrest. He seemed to be the one most against therapy, but James would be lying if he said he didn't want to discover what was hiding behind that slight smirk of his. "So, you don't have what to work with."

"Long story short, scram." The middle brother added, a sound of teeth chattering coming from his direction. James wasn't sure if it was some sort of a fidget or a side effect of his mutation.

"I might not want to help you get to the other side," The trio rolled their eyes. "but I would like to help you get better."

"We don't need that, doc. We were perfectly fine before you showed up." Fatso disclaimed, twiddling his thumbs. A possible anxiety fidget? 

"I've seen the way you treat your nephew and it's… less than ideal. This kind of behavior can really affect him in the future-"

"As if he has any future." Stinkie exclaimed from underneath his hat which got him a smack upside the head from the eldest McFadden.

"What my brother 'ere meant," Stretch glanced at his younger brother with a 'we'll-talk-about-this-later' look. "Is that it ain't like the world is gonna just accept him with... this whole situation." He gestured towards his face.

"We have accepted you."

"You believe in ghosts, of course you accepted us." The oldest brother corrected, and James wasn't sure whether or not it was supposed to be an insult, or just a plain fact. His tone leaned more towards the former, but James let it slide.

Taking a deep breath, James started again. "So, would you say you're protecting him?"

"Guess you could call it that." Stinkie flicked his tail in James's general direction.

"That's what we promised his Pa." Fatso stated, putting his foot on the couch. "Before they took him away."

Stretch and Stinkie looked at their brother with a look- Sympathetic? Guilty? Whatever it was didn't last long, as it was soon replaced with annoyance. So they didn't like to talk about their brother - a quick note. With an arrow, ready for next development.

"Would you like to elaborate on that?" 

"No," Stretch put his hand over Fatso's mouth before he could do further damage. "We  _ wouldn't _ . I don't even know why we're here."

He stopped, before jerking his hand away. "You jus' licked my hand!"

Fatso reacted with a satisfied look as Stretch wiped his hand on Stinkie’s shirt who, on the other hand, crinkled his snout in annoyance. James took a sip of coffee from his mug. "If you don't want to be here, you can go. I'm not holding you hostage."

None of the trio moved from their spot so he continued. "How about you tell me how you got mutated? Presuming, you haven't been born that way."

"Nah, we used t'look better than that." Stinkie started. "Same with pipsqueak. Kid was four, right?"

"Two. And a half." Stretch sighed. "It was when we got that mice infestation during Fall."

"They bit through the kid's wall and we had to take ‘im into our room. If you’d tell me that kid wasn’t human I’d believe it. He screeched his lungs out almost every night." Stinkie added, scratching his head.

"J.T. was supposed to fix that hole once he got home. Don't think he ever did." Fatso started, staring at the floor before his eyes darted to his brothers. "All he really did was try to get that thing downstairs to work."

Stretch's snout twitched with annoyance - an interesting reaction. James leaned against his desk, a squeak of old wood getting the brothers attention. "What was that?"

"Somethin' to try to bring his dead wifey back to life, later he tried to fix us with it." Stretch said simply, brows furrowing. "He didn't get to use it, cause they put him in a straight jacket."

James nodded solemnly, deciding to try a different angle. "Would you… say you were close with your brother?"

Stinkie snorted. "Close to murder-" Another hit from his elder brother.

"We all did our own thing, unless he called us ‘cause he needed babysitters." Fatso exclaimed, getting a curious glance from James. 

"You took care of your nephew a lot I presume?"

"We  _ raised  _ that kid. We taught him how to walk, how to talk, made sure Casper had everything he needed-"

"I taught him profanities." Stinkie said with a smile. 

"I still remember the little rugrat running around yelling 'shit bitch fuck balls'."

Stinkie and Fatso shared a laugh, while Stretch gave James a tired look. The doctor would be lying if he said he didn't chuckle a little at the mental image alone. Then he noticed a gleam in Stinkie’s hand and a mischievous smile on the mutants faces. “I thought I prohibited every sharp object in here- where did you get it?”

Stinkie put the pen he’s been holding away into his pocket, not breaking the eye contact he held with James. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“I- wait,” His vision suddenly got blurry, and he noticed the lack of dark frames in his vision. He squinted, trying to get a better look at the environment around him. The trio was now standing up - that much he noticed initially - but what he did see better now were his glasses on Stretch’s head. “When did you-”

“I think the session’s over, Doc. Fatso, if you’d be so kind?” Stretch said, trying (and failing) to sound as sophisticated as he could. 

“One lullaby, comin’ right up!” James got up and immediately regretted it as Fatso let out a low, seemingly pulsating sound, causing James’s legs to wobble as his vision turned to black around the edges. He hit the ground with a loud thud, hitting his head on the desk along the way. 

“That’s enough, let’s skedaddle.” Stretch said, taking off the glasses and throwing them next to the sleeping therapist. He left the library, his brothers following him soon after.

“Think he’s gonna try again?" Stinkie started, putting his hands in his pockets. 

"I'unno. Guy seemed stubborn, s'I doubt it."

"We could induce a coma." Fatso said as they stepped into the middle of the spiral in their main room. 

"Ya' mean knockin' 'im on the noggin' or d'ya want an excuse to sing again?" Stinkie replied.

"We could do both," the trio stopped by the TV room, with Stretch leaning against a nearby credenza. "I have been practicing my tenors, so I could try 'Hallelujah'."

"I thought you were a bass?"

"Nah, I'm more of a carp kinda guy."

"Would you two just shut up?" Stretch finally piped in, catching the attention of both of his brothers. "You guys are acting like there ain't nothin' wrong."

"Cause there ain't. What, you think Doc will call New Mexico on us?" Stinkie started, a smile still present on his face.

"He coulda' already done that for all we know, stink breath."

"Stretch, I think you should jus-" 

"Nah, you don't think. You were the one who started the whole 'let's talk about our dumbass brother' thing."

" _ And ya' continued it.  _ So pipe down, the kid's gonna hear you." 

"Who you tellin' to pipe down, you diseased cat vomit?"

"You, ya' overgrown Stuart Little."

"Oh yeah? Why don't we take it outside?"

"Fellas, I don't think you're gonna fix anything by throwing hands." Fatso added, stepping between his brothers.

"Keep outta it, or-" Before Stretch could finish, Stinkie flicked his tail on his snout, causing him to step back.

"Fatso's right."

"I am?"

"Wh-  _ Yeah _ . Those two won't do nothin' and you know it. C'mon, Fatso. Let Mr. Know-It-All figure it out." Stinkie said, departing from his oldest brother, Fatso following soon after, eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at Stretch once more. Stretch simply huffed, turning his head, starting at his brothers from under his brow.

* * *

All the noise previously present in the classroom stopped for a good moment when Kat entered the room, setting her books down at the only free desk near the window. "Hey, you sure you're in the right class?" Some kid from the other side of the room asked, smiling at her.

"Yeah, I'm- I'm new." She responded, sheepishly smiling at them. 

"I've seen you, haven't I?" The girl, who had been giving her a look since she saw her on the corridor, asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I think you… passed me, yeah." Kat said just as a teacher came in. 

"Well, kids. I got good news and bad news." He sighed, sitting down at his desk, his dark leather bag finding its place at the edge of the desk. "But first off, I got a little announcement. We actually have a newcomer today. Could I please ask," He looked down at the list of his students. "Kathleen Harvey to come up here and introduce herself?"

Kat walked up to the front of the class, staring at her classmates. "Actually, it's Kat-" She heard someone meow at her, which caused her to feel just slightly irked. Nevertheless, she continued. "I moved here with my Dad from Santa Fe."

"Watch out, we have a Southerner here." Someone from the crowd said and the class began to chuckle.

"So, where are you staying, Kat?" The teacher asked.

"I live… a while from here."

"Let me guess, a shack in the woods?"

Kat felt her face heat up as her voice rose. "Whipstaff, actually."

The class went dead silent, all of her classmates looking at her as if she grew two heads. "You gotta be kiddin'."

"No, it may look, uh,  _ off-putting  _ at first, but it's nice once you get used to it."

("Used to what, the wailing at night?" "I heard a few kids were murdered there, and their grind up bones are what keeps that garden upfront so nice." "Nick, you just made that up.")

"Alright, thank you Kat. Now as for the news," Kat went back to her seat, leaning against her elbows. "The good news is that we finally, after twenty-three years of service, bid Miss Dee Hyde goodbye, meaning no more Fruitcake Friday. The bad news is we have to cancel our Halloween party, due to asbestos complications. Turns out you can remove man from a toxic substance, but you can’t remove the substance from man."

The class moaned in annoyance. 

That girl from before stood up, addressing the class. "Well, that sucks. But you know what we could do? We could take my parents' yacht. It has enough room for a party and it's a freaking  _ yacht.  _ I rest my case." She said down, causing a murmur in the room. 

"Yeah, but hear this," Another kid started, getting the class's attention. "That new kid has a whole haunted mansion for her disposal and I don't know about you, but it seems more thematic than a boat."

Most of the class agreed, causing Amber to widen her eyes.

"Alright, so who wants to have a party on Amber's boat?" The teacher said, giving an uninterested look at best.

No reaction except from Amber lifting her hand as high as she could, pressuring Vic to do the same, causing Kat to chuckle before Amber whipped her head at her. Kat quickly hid her face behind her hand.

"And Whipstaff?"

The whole class lifted their hands, excluding Amber and Kat. 

The teacher noted it down, before he decided to actually tackle today's subject and got up to the chalkboard with a textbook in his hand. 

Kat noticed how Amber was staring daggers in her direction and she quickly raised her hand. "Could I go to the bathroom?"

* * *

Kat entered the bathroom, splashing water on her face. She had to plan a party when she lived with…  _ whatever  _ the trio were. You could say she was a bit stressed. Her ears rang.

Her wound was pulsating. She forgot about that thing, but there had been a lot going on, so she couldn't say she was surprised. She peeled the bandage off, revealing a red gash still not closed. She would hate to go to the hospital to get it stitched, she thought as she positioned her hand under the tap and turned the knobs.

"Did my uncle do that?" A small voice asked from behind her, causing her to turn and splash water around, including a now flickering white mutant. 

"Casper? What are you doing here?" She asked, her eyes widening. "How did you get in?"

His matted fur had specs of dirt in it and he smelled  _ terrible _ . "I've got methods." He walked up to the sink and hopped up on it before sitting down, his legs swinging. "Are you ok?"

"Physically? I think so, I just need to sanitize it. I think. It will leave a scar though," Casper looked down at her wet forearm, small droplets of blood oozing out. "Mentally, on the other hand? I'm not sure. I'm supposed to hold a halloween party, but how am I supposed to do that with…"

"...my uncles home?"

"Yeah." She sighed, pulling out a new gauze from her bag. "Are they always like that?"

"Cranky? Only if a stranger comes home." A bandage was wrapped tightly around her arm, keeping the gauze in place. She could sanitize it back home. Just a few more hours. "Which happens a lot."

"I get being a jerk towards someone who comes uninvited to your house, but are they always so mean towards  _ you _ ?"

Casper looked taken aback, before he placed his hands on his baby blue scarf, fixing it. "No, they have their  _ moments,  _ but if I do my chores they don't say anything." 

"Speaking of, what's up with those chores? They act like you're their slave or something."

"They started giving me those when I was five, I think. Something to keep me occupied so I wouldn't sneak out of the mansion."

"Wait." Kat put her hands up, stopping Casper's train of thought. "You never left the mansion?"

"No," he started, frowning. "Not until a few days ago when I went to that Crittenden lady."

"What for?"

"I, uh-"

"Casper." 

"Oh, um. I think- I think I have to go… clean my room. Which is yours now. So really, I have to clean your room-"

" _ Casper. _ "

He sighed. "I gave her a flier about our mansion being haunted so she would call your dad and bring you here."

"You gotta be kidding me." Her face has gotten red again, her angry reflection staring at the mouse with balled fists. " _ You  _ are the reason we ditched Santa Fe?"

"I saw that report on TV- about how miserable you were with the constant travelling, having no friends-"

" _ I was starting to make friends,  _ before you came along." She pinched her nose before grabbing her bag. "I have to go. I have classes." With that she stormed out of the room, leaving Casper alone in the bathroom.

* * *

The entrance door opened with an audible squeak. Casper looked around and fortunately for him there was no one to be seen. He slipped inside, closing the door after him before walking up the stairs.

He would have to dust them again, he thought as he left grimy footprints in his wake, his tail creating a thin zigzag-like pattern behind him. The clock rang out once he was nearly on top, causing him to jump. He heard footsteps coming from his left, so he turned right.

"Catfood, that you?" Stretch asked, noticing the tiny mutant across from him. Casper froze, hoping his uncle wouldn't question all the mess he left behind him. 

"...Yeah?" Casper started, his ears flat against his head as he turned around. 

"Uh. Say, you heard anythin' after we got outta the library?" Stretch's hands were clasped together behind his back as he came closer towards his nephew. 

The gears in Casper's head turned, as he tried to decide which answer would result in that conversation ending sooner. He could say no, but then he probably would get a full run-down about whatever was bothering his uncle, or he could say yes and hopefully get this over with. "...Yeah! Heard it all."

Stretch's snout crinkled. "Who do you think was right, then?"

Oh no. "You…?"

"Course y- wait. Really?"

"Yeah! Sounded great. Can I go now?"

His uncle's eyes narrowed as he came closer, his whiskers twitching as he loomed over his nephew. "Hey, wait a second. What's that smell?"

"I- I was helping Uncle Stinkie with his… garden? And I fell into the composter! Can I go shower now?"

"You wouldn't be lying to me, now would you?"

"No! Can I just go?" Casper moaned out, feeling exasperated. 

"Take two of 'em. I nearly mistook you for that stink for brains." Casper nodded before walking away slightly faster than would be considered a norm for him.

* * *

James woke up and he immediately wished he hadn't. His back was giving him hell as he sat down, rubbing his head. He noticed a note on his desk right by a plate of cookies. He grumbled as he got up, leaning on the desk as he read the note. "Hi Dad, couldn't wake you up and I know you'll need a really good chiropractor afterwards, so I’ll try to find some ads for them in the papers later. I got you some cookies on the way home, I think you'll like them."

He glanced down at the plate and grabbed one of the chocolate chip cookies. "PS. Please don't come into my room. I'll talk with you later. I love you. Less than three?" He noticed a small writing on the side. He turned the note in his hand and- "Oh! It's a heart. That's nice."

He smiled, continuing munching on the cookies as he wrote down a few notes for his next therapy session with the trio.

* * *

Stretch felt  _ frustrated.  _

His house was invaded by two strangers who made themselves at home, his brothers acted like there wasn't anything wrong with that  _ hell, even acted buddy-buddy with that shrink cheat,  _ and his kid was behaving weird for no apparent reason. 

So frustrated was just the tip of the iceberg, to be quite honest. 

He wandered down the dark hallways - it was only 6, and already so dark - stepping into the television room. His brothers were nowhere to be seen, but he didn't really want to see them. He didn't need another lecture on why he should just relax or something.

He turned on the TV and saw himself stare back right at him, causing his legs to wobble.

"Yous guys learned ya' lesson, or do I need to knock out some of those pretty teeth of yours?" His past self asked some goons, his  _ very much human  _ self. Slightly disguised - a wig and contacts did a wonder on him - but still him. He sat down, eyes glued to the screen.

"No, please don't do it, Fox!"

"That's Mister Fox for ya, bagman. Now get outta here before I change my mind!" Stretch furrowed his brows, his tail frozen in place as he continued studying the screen. 

That movie - The Butler Didn't Do It - was his last one. Right as he finished it, he told the studio he was going to take a vacation - family business. At first they refused, but Stretch - then  _ Crimson Fox  _ \- told them they can either let him off or they can look for a new actor. Seeing as he was at the height of his popularity the studio agreed. 

Too bad he got murdered by his brother the following month.

The scene changed to an office - the film was set in 1930's so a private dick was appropriate to appear. Fox appeared in the door frame, a tommy in one hand and a cigar in the other one. Stretch tried to remember the context - something about a mafia boss dying and his gang trying to get the money he left behind. "Honey, I'm home!" Fox cackled, setting off his gun at the person behind the camera. 

Stretch cringed at that line delivery, looking away for a moment before his black-and-white clone spoke up. "What, didn't like it?"

The mice mutant almost snapped his neck, considering how fast he looked back at the screen. His human counterpart was staring back at him, eyes stern and cold and eyebrows furrowing as the TV screen seemed to bend in on itself, akin to the surface of water flexing at a force trying to break it. "I'm talkin' to you, cat vomit. Didn't like what I'm sayin'?" Fox pressed his hand against the screen and finally broke the surface. "Or maybe you ain't enjoyin' the movie?"

His voice - fake and devoid of emotions - resonated in Stretch's skull. He tried to speak up, but nothing came out. Nothing, but a tiny  _ squeak. _ "Look at what you've done t'yourself. You're wastin' away, all cause you wanted to take care of a kid." 

Fox took hold of both sides of the TV, crawling -  _ spilling  _ \- out, leaving a white hole in the movie as his feet stepped on the old wood beneath him leaving tar-like puddles. Stretch held onto the back of the couch as his heart was ready to jump out of his chest, his tinnitus suddenly making itself known. "You can find something better." Fox's voice changed to something more high-pitched. "I  _ know  _ something better. If you can trust me, I could make you a star again."

Fox walked over to the mutant, suddenly towering over him, his black suit dripping down on Stretch's face.  _ Squeak. _ Some of the tar-like substance got into his mouth as his clone simply watched, waiting.  _ Squeak _ .

In an attempt to give himself some space and additionally to tell the guy he can shove that  _ something  _ where the sun doesn't shine, Stretch let a series of dark spurs to rise out of his inner arms and simply hit the black and white figure as hard as he could.

The creature - he didn't want to call that distortion himself in any form anymore - yowled with pain, face stretching down as water started to pour out of its wounds, filling the room up to the ceiling. "You made your choice, McFadden." The voice from before called out as Stretch's lungs filled with the liquid, his hands sloshing around as if trying to crawl his way to a non-existent air pocket. 

His vision faded to black right before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He sprang up, gasping for air. "Stretch, it's ok. It's me, James. You just had a nightmare." There was a voice above him and a blanket on top of him. 

"Doc, what- ain't you supposed to-" His lungs felt  _ tight  _ and he could swear his pulse was hearable throughout the house. 

"Focus on breathing, alright? Count to four for breathing in and to seven-"

"Nah, I'm fine." He said through his teeth. "It's still dark out, Doc. Why ain't you sleepin'?"

"I heard your screams and got concerned."

Stretch grinned. "Oh, is that  _ so? _ "

James noticed the little flout - indicated by a raise of his brow - before he hung his head down, scratching the back of it, looking at Stretch from under his brow. "Would you like to share what was the nightmare-"

"No." Stretch said simply, his ears flat against his head. James hummed, getting lost in thought (Stretch could see those gears shifting in the shrink's head) before he sat down, causing the mice mutant to jerk away. 

"So, what are you watching?"

The movie was just about to finish and Fox was nearing his death as he held the money bags, laughing at the audience. Mocking the off-screen protagonist. "A movie." 

"I can see that." James started, clasping his hands together on his lap. "You know, I used to love that actor. I don't really remember his name, but he had that  _ something  _ in him and you just couldn't look away from that."

"Like from a car crash." Stretch laid back down, draping the blanket over his shoulders. "Where did that thing even come from?" 

James shifted his gaze to Stretch. "I found it in my room. Thought- thought it would be nice to have." 

"Do you," The mutants' face morphed into a shit-eating grin. "Sleep in the room next door?"

"Yes, is there a problem with that? I could move upstairs, if you'd like."

"Nah, keep it." It was the old laundry room. Stretch propped his head up on his hand, his tail flicking from left to right. "So, Doc. When you're gonna leave?"

"Not until you're better I won't."

"I meant when you're going to leave the  _ house _ , pinky."

"The answer continues to stand, Brain."

Stretch let out a low, frustrated growl, rubbing his eyes on his hand. "Oh, cut the crap. I know that Creat- Creti- that  _ lady  _ hired you to get the  _ ghosts _ outta the house."

"Perhaps," James sighed as a gunshot sounded off from the film. "But plans have changed, now that I know you're not one of the living impaired. I'm still a psychiatrist, no matter what kind of patient I'm handling." 

" _ Right _ ." Stretch said as Fox gurgled out his last words in the background. "Got a diagnosis for me yet, Doc?"

"I'm working on it," James got up, walking slowly towards the exit. "We could talk about it during our next session, if-"

"How about a private session?" Stretch asked, testing the waters _.  _

James stopped in his tracks, his features illuminated by the TV. He thought for a second, simply staring at Stretch - examining his features - before smiling politely. "We could arrange it."

With that Stretch was left with the movie playing its last scene - the main protagonist holding his damsel looking down on Fox, money spilled all over the pavement. Without a word, the two lovers embraced, as police sirens went off in the distance. "Shut up, will ya'?" 

He turned the TV off, laying his head down, falling asleep not much later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stretch is Splinter in this version if you haven't guessed already gdjkdbs  
> Thank you Chip for helping me out with his nickname : -)c
> 
> Same as always - I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> This story is SUPER self indulgent, but we love to treat ourself <3  
> My Casper sideblog on tumblr is @uncle-stinkie btw if you want to like. Look at funney art or yell about ghosts at me. I'll accept both and any


End file.
